Side Effects
by Wordsplat
Summary: In which Tony learns that communication is key, his boyfriend doesn't want to be his boyfriend anymore, and Viagra is not the drug for him. Oneshot, Steve/Tony.


It wasn't Tony's fault.

His boyfriend was, essentially, physical human perfection. Tony loved him for his brilliant tactical mind and his wonderful sense of humor and what a complete and utter dork he could be when they were alone, but he wasn't fucking blind, either. Steve was _gorgeous. _He had washboard abs and bodybuilder arms and the jaw of Adonis, and the fact that Tony got to have fantastic sex with this man on a regular basis was something he would never, ever get over. Steve, contrary to the blushing virgin of Tony's fantasies, _loved _sex. He was all over it, and all over Tony, at any and every available opportunity. He was always ready to try something new, or go a second round, or a third, or a fourth.

And _that _was the real problem.

Steve looked like he was in college, for Christ's sake. He was young and supple and mind-bogglingly flexible, not to mention as tactically creative in bed as he was on the battlefield. Tony was…not. He was creative, sure, and hell yeah he was game for trying new things, but there was an vitality factor here that Tony was slowly but surely starting to notice. Steve could orgasm _seven times _before anything resembling a refractory period began to interfere; they'd tested this. And all it took to get him going in the first place was a sideways glance or a lingering touch or, hell, an argument if it wasn't about anything too serious. Steve was, in a word, insatiable, and Tony was beginning to wonder if he was entirely up the task.

Not that he'd let Steve go, ever, for _any _reason, especially not because he had a wonderfully voracious appetite for sex, but it was just that Tony could acknowledge that attempting to keep up with Steve—young, energetic, superserum-enhanced Steve—without any help at all might be…over-reaching, a bit. It wasn't that his sex drive wasn't perfectly healthy, or that he couldn't regularly get it up because he _could, _damn it, his dick just wasn't a fucking yoyo, okay? He'd only even bought the bottle in the first place as a backup. A safety precaution.

But five times in one day was asking a lot, even for Tony.

It was their anniversary, which always got them both particularly amorous. They both had work, unfortunately, but between I'm-so-happy-I-get-to-wake-up-to-you-every-day morning sex, too-impatient-to-wait-all-day-so-I'm-stealing-you-away lunch break sex, I-miss-you-no-matter-how-long-we're-apart welcome home sex, and you-spend-too-much-money-but-I-know-you're-just-being-extravagant-because-you-love-me limo sex after dinner, they were apparently going for a record. Tony had kept up all day, too; there was enough time between each encounter, at least, that he could gather himself. But when he tried to slip away to the workshop after they disentangled themselves and exited the limo, give himself a few hours before their roof date, Steve just tugged him back, kissed him passionately, and asked teasingly where exactly Tony thought he was going.

They had sex on the roof every year on their anniversary; it was the first place they'd ever made love. Though Tony was sure as hell in the mood for it—he had an eager, affectionate Steve in his arms, he'd be dead before he wasn't in the mood for that—they'd only just had sex in the limo a few moments ago. Between that and the rest of the day…Tony's well was tapped out. No way he'd be ready again so soon, no matter how long he attempted to drag out the foreplay, and Steve was obviously going to notice if Tony couldn't get it up. What then? They _always _had roof sex on their anniversary. It was tradition, and the gushy sentimentalist in him reveled in it. It was the best of part of their anniversary, and how could it not be? Something about the open air and the night sky, about having the stars as their only light, about cuddling together to keep warm while they stayed up late talking about all the fun things they'd done that year, the good times they'd had in the years past, about plans for their future…it was special. It was Tony's favorite moment of his favorite day; screw his birthday, screw Halloween and Christmas and whatever other days people looked forward to, _this _was Tony's day. He looked forward to this all year, he sure as hell wasn't going to ruin it over something as stupid as his body not cooperating with him.

Time to give his little blue buddy a try.

He swore up and down to Steve that he'd meet him there in just two minutes, then snuck off to retrieve the bottle he'd stashed in the locked drawer of his workshop desk. He popped one of the little blue pills, filled a glass of water from the tap and drank that too for good measure, then thought sexy thoughts and waited for the drug to start working. It wasn't hard; the memory of Steve pressed against him, still pleasure-flushed from a few moments earlier, nipping at his ear, hands warm on his waist—

Yeah.

The pill worked.

Tony hopped into the elevator, eagerly pressing the button that would take him to the roof. "JARVIS, once I ascend—"

"No one else will be allowed access to the roof, sir," JARVIS answered, amused, "I am aware of protocol."

"Good." Tony grinned. "Great."

The elevator doors opened, and one step out took him right into Steve's waiting arms. Steve whirled him around happily, pressing _I love you_'sto his lips between enthusiastic kisses. Tony barely got a moment to reciprocate before Steve hoisted him up into his arms properly, carrying him over to their waiting setup. They fell onto the air mattress together with a breathless laugh, and for a little while, everything was absolutely perfect.

It wasn't until after the main event that things started to get a little…strange.

"Um." Steve's sated smile dipped a little lower, not quite a frown, but a confused little wrinkle. "Huh."

"'Huh'?" Tony repeated, kissing along Steve's neck.

"Didn't you just come?" Steve sat up a little, though he didn't move off of Tony.

"Sure did." Tony caught his hand again, relinked their fingers. "What's wrong?"

"Then why…" Steve stopped talking a moment, wriggling his hips. Tony was currently hilt-deep and over-sensitive; the movement was near torturous. He dropped his head back onto the mattress with a groan. "Tony, how are you still hard?"

"The power of love?" Tony offered weakly.

Steve examined him critically for a moment. "What aren't you telling me?"

"How much I love you." Tony scooted up enough to loop an arm around Steve's neck, pull him back down. He lined kisses along Steve's jaw, down his neck, over his collarbone. "Because I do. So much love. Tons of love. Buckets of love. Endless, endless love—"

"Tony," Steve protested, but it was faint, and Tony could hear the smile in his voice.

"Steve," he murmured back, laying down a kiss each time he said Steve's name, "Steve, Steve, Steve. Wonderful, perfect Steve—"

"Okay, wait." Steve pulled back, putting a firm hand on Tony's shoulder to keep him down. "I mean it. How are you still hard? You came, didn't you?"

"Er, no?" Tony tried not to dwell on it. He was pretty fucking sure he had at the time, but if he was still this hard, he must not have. Right?

"What did I do wrong?" Steve's whole face dropped, and he looked so horribly dejected that Tony's heart hurt.

"_Steve," _was the only word he could manage, and he surged up to kiss the absolute sweetest man in the world. "Nothing, baby. Not a damn thing."

"Then why—?" Steve shook his head. "Doesn't matter."

"Doesn't—ohh wow." Tony couldn't help a moan as Steve slid off him. Christ, he was hard. And sensitive, damn, he couldn't remember ever being this sensitive before— "Alrighty then, guess we're moving."

"Love you." Steve kissed him intensely, then began determinedly mouthing his way down Tony's chest. "Gonna make this good for you. Promise."

Tony opened his mouth to reply, but was cut off by Steve's teeth scraping over the inside of his thigh; Tony's hips shot up, canting towards Steve eagerly. It only stopped his train of thought a moment though, before he remembered what Steve had said.

"Always good for me, sweetheart, always," Tony assured, "Always good cause you're always good, you're so good to me, honey, so good, don't deserve you—"

"Wrong." Steve sucked a mark into the hollow of his hip, hard enough to leave teeth marks. Tony moaned loudly.

"Okay, I'm wrong, I love you, I'm wrong," Tony babbled.

"Wish I could get you to say that sometime when my lips aren't an inch from your cock," Steve murmured, pressing kisses lower.

"Have I mentioned lately that I will never tire of the way you say cock?" Tony grinned at him.

"Possibly," Steve hummed, then swallowed him down without further preamble.

Oh _Christ. _Sensitivity was usually great, and Tony was all for a good blowjob—and Steve's were fantastic—but something about it now felt of the usual, enjoyable rush of arousal, Tony just felt like his dick was on fucking _fire_. He tried to hold on a moment anyway, the look in Steve's eyes when he thought he'd failed flashing through his mind, but when Steve's favorite little tongue trick bordered on painful, Tony winced and Steve noticed.

"What's wrong?" Steve released him immediately, moving back up to meet Tony's eyes. "Sorry, did I catch you with my teeth?"

"No, no." Tony shook his head. "Maybe I just shouldn't get off tonight, why don't we move on to—"

"What?" Steve looked adorably but deeply confused.

"So how was your day, tell me about your day—"

"Tony." Damn. Steve's worried frown was out in full force now, and he rolled out from between Tony's legs and onto his side. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing, honey, I love you—" Tony leaned in for a kiss, but Steve dodged him.

"Stop distracting me," Steve insisted, starting to look upset, "Have I done something wrong? What's got you wound so tight?"

"Ugh." Tony rolled onto his back, throwing an arm over his face. "You're perfect. Okay? You're perfect and gorgeous and really, really fucking energetic, and the sex is fantastic, do not misunderstand me here, it's not that I don't _want _to fuck like bunnies all night long because I do, believe me, I do, but I just…I can't. I can't, Steve, I'm sorry, I love you but I can't—"

"Oh, Tony," Steve said softly, and oh god, were those _tears? _What? Why? No, bad, rewind, shit, what the fuck did he _say— _"Today? _Now?"_

"Well, yeah, right now," Tony mumbled, because it was bad enough he couldn't get it up on their anniversary, Steve didn't have to go and fucking rub it in—

"Please, sweetheart." Steve took Tony's hands, his grip unnervingly tight. "Please don't do this. We can fix this. Whatever it is, we can work through it, I swear to you—"

Steve kissed him impulsively, and Tony had officially never, ever been more confused in his life. All he could really think of to say was a baffled, "What?"

"I love you so much, Tony." Steve raised both hands to cup his face, kiss him again, soft and sweet and bewilderingly tender. "You mean _everything _to me, please, just give me the chance and I swear to you I'll be better—"

"Better at _what?" _Tony gaped incredulously, because what exactly did Steve think he was anything less than perfect at? Christ, if Steve got any 'better', Tony was going to die a very sexy but far too early death.

"Whatever you need me to be," Steve insisted, desperation and determination mixing in his voice as he pulled Tony closer, "A better boyfriend, a better lover, a better friend, whatever it is I've failed you as, I promise you I can—"

"You think you've _failed _me?" Tony sputtered, "What in the hell are you going on about?"

"You just said you can't do this anymore." Steve looked more miserable than Tony had ever seen him, and it finally dawned on him what exactly Steve thought was going on. "But we can fix this if you want to, just say that you want to and I swear I will be so, so good to you—"

"Oh, god, I'm such an idiot." Tony shook his head, finally realizing what Steve thought was happening. "I hope you're pleased with yourself, falling for the world's biggest moron—look, Steve: we've been together for _six years. _You're stuck with me. Completely, totally stuck with me. You want me gone, you're going to have to push me out a window or something."

"You're not breaking up with me?" Steve's eyes were still glistening a little, and Tony felt like the world's biggest jackass. He moved forward to wrap both arms around Steve and hold him tight.

"Never," Tony swore, pressing the promise into the skin of Steve's neck.

"Then…then what on earth is going _on _with you?" Steve demanded, bewildered.

"I may or may not have self-medicated." Tony winced, trying to hide the words in the crook of Steve's shoulder. Superhearing won out every time though, and Steve pushed him away.

"You're on _drugs _on our _anniversary—"_

"No!" Tony hastily backpedalled, "No no no—well, technically—but—"

"I might actually push you out a window at this rate." Steve rolled onto his back and rubbed both hands over his face. "I need a minute."

"Steve, I'm not—"

"Tony." Steve reached a hand out blindly, clasping it over Tony's mouth. "Emotional rollercoaster here. Give me a minute."

"Mkay," Tony mumbled into Steve's palm.

Steve took a deep breath in. Held it. Released.

"Go."

"I took Viagra."

"You—the _sex drug?"_

"Steve." Tony scooted closer to him, draping an arm across his midsection and nestling his head in the crook of Steve's shoulder, because this was not a conversation he'd ever wanted to have but if he was going to do it he was at least going to do it while cuddling his supersoldier. Steve, confused though he was, still wrapped both arms around Tony in turn. God, Tony loved him. "I'm forty-eight. I love you, I love you _deeply, _and if it were up to me, we'd spend the rest of our lives just you and me in some cabin in the woods making love all day long. But…I'm not a supersoldier, babe. I've only got so many rounds in me, and four was kind of my tops."

"Wait." A wrinkle appeared between Steve's brows. "The only reason we're not running away from the world is that you have a refractory period?"

"Well." Tony shrugged, because it was obvious. "Duh."

"The whole…superheroes with responsibilities thing, that has nothing to do with it?" Steve was teasing, but his soft smile betrayed him. Steve always knew when to stay serious and when Tony could use a laugh.

"Of course not, don't be ridiculous. The world can burn, for all I care."

"What about your company? And our friends?"

"I'm CEO in name only, we all know who's _really _been running that thing all these years. And do we really consider them friends? I think of them more as high-maintenance pets, really."

"At least they're housetrained." Steve kissed the top of his head.

"Thank god for that."

A beat of silence, then, "Tony."

"Yeah." Tony winced. "Trust me, I'm aware."

He was still completely, ragingly hard.

"How long is dangerous-long?"

"The commercials say four hours."

"Isn't it supposed to go away after you come though?"

"Pretty sure."

"It definitely hasn't."

"Got that, thanks."

"I think we should at least consult JARVIS."

"He's just gonna go on Web M.D. and tell me I'm dying of leukemia or something—"

"He will not and you know it." Steve pressed one more kiss to the top of his head. "JARVIS, how long until Tony needs medical attention?"

"Four hours, Commander, though as he has achieved sexual satisfaction and it has still not abated, it is advised he seek help immediately."

"What kind of help are we talking about?" Tony frowned. "Cold showers, stick some ice on it…?"

"I'm afraid they'll need to draw blood from the area, sir."

"Draw—" Tony sputtered, sitting up with a start, "With a _needle?_"

"Typically, yes."

"Nope." Tony grabbed the covers and yanked them over his head. "Nope, fuck this, I am _not _going anywhere _near _that shit_—"_

"Tony, get back here." Steve laughed, crawling under the covers after him. "I mean it, you, c'mere—"

"This is absurd!" Tony protested, wriggling out of Steve's grasp, "This is—this is cruel and unusual punishment—"

"Calm down, would you?" Steve wrestled to keep him under control. "I have superstrength, you're not going to escape—"

"And I have the strength of a man who fears _dick injections, _Steve, do not underestimate me right now—"

"You're being ridiculous," Steve insisted, but his amused grin was audible in his voice.

"_I'm _being ridiculous? I just wanted to love you, literally, I literally just wanted to make love to you, and this is the thanks I get? What kind of sick world is this? I want to make love to my boyfriend and I get a _needle _to the _dick _for my troubles?"

It was at that moment that Steve finally managed to get a hand around his ankle and yank him back; Tony's rant was cut off by Steve pouncing on him, wrapping both legs around Tony's to hold him in place while he attacked him with kisses. They rolled as Tony briefly continued to struggle for the fun of it, entangling themselves further in the sheets. By the time they had to break the kiss for air, they were wrapped so tightly together by the twisted blankets that they couldn't pull more than an inch apart.

"Tony." Steve smiled up at him fondly, close enough Tony could see the pale, usually invisible freckle just to the right of Steve's mouth. A particularly heavy exhale would be enough to bring their lips together again. "You need medical attention."

"Or I need a round two," Tony pointed out, "Maybe we should just try again, natural remedies and all that jazz—"

Steve laughed, warm breath tickling Tony's nose. "You couldn't even handle a blowjob."

"I hate you." Tony made a face.

"You love me." Steve tilted his chin up to kiss Tony again, passionate and with tongue. "I could've warned you, you know."

"About?" Tony was too kiss-dazed to quite pick back up on the train of conversation just yet.

"About the Viagra," Steve reminded him, "If you'd talkedto me before taking it, I could've told you flat out we didn't need sex for tonight to be special."

"I know." Tony sighed. "I just wanted to keep up with you, that's all."

"Oh, honey." Steve's expression went soft, and he kissed Tony gently. "I don't give a damn about the frequency of things. I don't want you taking medication just so we can keep this pace, or any other pace too fast for you. You're all I need, you have to know that."

"Christ, I feel old," Tony complained woefully.

"If it makes you feel better, you're dating a centennial." Steve kissed his nose.

"The fact that I'm dating a centennial with a better sex drive than me does not make me feel better, no."

"Sorry." Steve tried valiantly not to laugh. Tony wanted to shove him for it, but the way the blankets constricted around them, his arm was falling asleep.

"We may need surgical assistance getting out of here," Tony admitted.

"Or superstrength," Steve teased.

"Or superstrength," Tony agreed, "Lucky for us, I know this great guy, he could totally help with that."

"Oh do you?" Steve laughed.

"I do. He's the sweetest, kindest man I've ever met. Funny, too, and stubborn enough to put up with me. He's the best blanket cocoon buddy a man could ask for, obviously, with the most beautiful eyes I've ever seen." Steve was close enough Tony could count each perfect eyelash, see every little fleck of color, and his next words slipped out without so much as a moment's thought. "And if he lets me, I'm going to marry him someday."

Steve blinked, beautiful eyes going wide. Tony was dimly aware that this was the part where he took it back, where he stumbled and stuttered out an _oh, shit, that was—I didn't mean to—shit, I'm sorry, this isn't the right time or place or anything, I'm so sorry _but…he didn't. Because maybe, wound tight enough in blankets that they were bumping noses, buck naked with an erection that apparently needed medical attention, on a spur of the moment comment straight from the most genuine, sentimental place in Tony's heart that had _Reserved For Steve _written all over it, was exactly the time and place to propose.

Steve, because he was Steve, already knew all that.

He kissed Tony, hard and fast and with all the vigor of a soldier going to war, then flexed his shoulders back. It took a moment, but he managed to wriggle them out of their cocoon and back into open air. They didn't stop kissing for a second, but Steve was very determinedly moving them towards the edge of the bed; Tony wasn't entirely sure what he was doing, but was entirely sure he didn't care. At least, until Steve broke the kiss to lean off the bed and get his pants.

"No, what, bad," Tony scolded, Steve's particularly enthusiastic kisses leaving him unwilling to attempting anything beyond monosyllables. Clothes were the worst idea Steve had had all night. Tony attempted to say that, but it came out as, "Steve, bed, naked kisses."

Steve rolled back towards Tony triumphantly, beaming smile on his face, small black box in hand.

"Shit, I ruined your proposal," Tony blurted.

"No, you made it absolutely perfect." Steve leaned in, kissed him once more, then opened the box between them. "Tony, I'd ask you to make me the happiest man alive, but you already have. I love you more than I ever could've imagined it was possible to love another person, and I will do everything in my power to prove it to you every day for the rest of our lives. Will you marry me?"

"I asked you first, you know," Tony teased, but even as he said the words he was taking the ring from the box.

"I'll guess have to think about it, then," Steve teased back, but he was already leaning in.

"C'mere." Tony couldn't have kept the bright grin off his face for anything and he didn't try, instead going willingly into Steve's arms for another kiss. Or two. Or ten. Steve was the one who finally broke away.

"You really need to go to the hospital."

"You caught me. This was all an elaborate plan to get you to forget about that."

"If you want me to forget, you shouldn't keep poking my thigh."

"Well, y'know babe, it's kind of _hard_ not to," Tony said with as straight a face as he could manage.

Steve tried to groan at the pun, but couldn't keep from cracking up instead. He snorted a laugh into Tony's shoulder. "That was awful."

"I guess my sense of humor is a little _stiff_ right now."

"Okay, okay, stop," Steve warned through a laugh.

"Sorry," Tony hummed innocently, "I guess I'm being kind of a _bone_head—"

"Sirs," JARVIS interrupted Steve's helpless laughter, "Though I regret to intrude, I feel the need to remind you both that the longer you postpone seeking medical care, the higher the chances are of permanent damage."

Both men froze, exchanging a wide-eyed look of horror.

"_Permanent?"_

"You're going to the—"

"—hospital, yep, let's go."


End file.
